


Just Another Glorestory

by Zhie



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Hair bondage, Haircuts, Injury, Library Sex, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:07:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23076784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zhie/pseuds/Zhie
Summary: For some reason, Erestor or Glorfindel keep getting injured under strange circumstances.  Elrond just heals things.  Sometimes it's better not to ask questions.
Relationships: Erestor/Glorfindel (Tolkien), Other mystery stuff as story progresses
Comments: 7
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> B2MEM After Dark Prompt: The Healer Will See You Now -- Hurt at the library  
> https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1e0YkgZlc_j7fTl1cyp_rC2kzNNh81qY1Zs_Htdv3I-Q/edit?usp=sharing

It always happened on Menelya, late in the evening. It would be very late, but not yet Valanya. Valanya was meant to be a day of prayer and rest, but there were times it was a day of housecalls for Elrond. Of course, that always depended on what happened on Menelya night.

It always began with a timid knock high on the door. This meant someone tall, and someone who had some concern about interrupting the master of the valley at such an hour. When the door was opened, it would be Glorfindel, often with Erestor. There would be an accident that had occurred under suspicious circumstances. Elrond was insistent that the highest members of his staff consult him directly for medical purposes. This was not only to be sure they received the best care, but also so that rumors did not travel through the valley.

And oh, the rumors that would have made their journey from the healing rooms to the kitchens, and out to the stables and barracks and library and back again. Then again, some of the instances were too incredible, they might not be believed even if they had been shared.

Each incident was different. The first time, it went something like this:

“We are so sorry to bother you at such an hour, but there was a little mishap in the library.”

Elrond ushered Glorfindel, who was helping to support Erestor, through the doorway. “A mishap in the library? What happened?” Elrond shut the door and helped Glorfindel to settle Erestor on the couch. When Erestor’s robes were pushed up to his thighs, a makeshift bandage was visible. It was wrapped around Erestor’s right knee, and there was some superficial spotting of blood. 

\---

_ 30 minutes earlier… _

_ Erestor locked the door to the library and turned around to size up Glorfindel. “Instead of going to the Hall of Fire yet again, what if I just bend over the desk and we see how well your arrow can find its mark?” asked Erestor in a smooth, low voice not oft heard in council or court.  _

_ Glorfindel licked his lips and moved the inkwell off the desk with reverence. “I did not dream you would be so forward, Master Erestor.” It was only Glorfindel’s fifth week in Imladris. They spent the first week being polite, the second week taking tea together, the third sharing luncheon, and the fourth having dinner followed by spending time in the Hall of Fire. _

_ In other words, they managed a courtship as long as two ancient gay bachelors were willing to sustain before hopping into bed--or onto a desk--together. _

_ Without answering Glorfindel’s comment with words, Erestor swiftly reached the desk and swept all else onto the floor with a single swing of his arm. “One cannot simply wait forever, even if they do have a very long life.” Erestor stretched up on the tips of his toes, grasped Glorfindel’s face in his hands, and pulled him down slightly to passionately kiss him. “Enough foreplay. I prepared myself before you arrived.” _

_ Golden brows arched. “Prepared yourself?” _

_ “You heard what I said.” Erestor bent himself over the desk and spread his legs apart as he hoisted up the indigo robes he was wearing. No undergarments hindered Glorfindel. “Permission to fuck me into next week, Captain.” There almost seemed to be an extra thrill Erestor received from saying the words, and knowing he outranked Glorfindel.  _

\---

Glorfindel sat down slowly in a chair as Elrond unwrapped the bandage and assessed the wounds. “Just a mishaps with some books.” 

“I was carrying a large number of books to the desk when I tripped on the rug. The books flew across the desk and knocked everything off, creating a terrible mess. For my part, I hit the desk with such force, well, you can see there.”

As Erestor spoke, Elrond analyzed the injury. “This bruising seems to have occurred in multiple places. Has this happened before?” Elrond asked.

\---

_ 20 minutes earlier… _

_ Lost to passion, neither realized that Glorfindel’s increasing force and their proximity to the desk was a recipe for disaster until a loud bang was followed by a yelp from Erestor. “Sorry!” apologized Glorfindel as he started to slip out. _

_ “Stop. Right. There.” Erestor caught his breath and clenched his teeth. Glorfindel froze. “You will not stop fucking me until I have sprayed this desk with my semen. That is an order.” _

_ Glorfindel whimpered. “What if I come first?” _

_ Erestor looked over his shoulder. “Then you can suck me off while I pull your hair.” _

_ Stuck between two rather appealing outcomes, Glorfindel resumed his thrusts. It did not take long before the sound of Erestor’s knee hitting the desk was heard again, but Glorfindel kept up the pace. In fact, from the sounds Erestor was making, one might think he was enjoying it. _

\---

“I hit it earlier today. That rug really needs to be replaced,” Erestor said as Elrond cleaned the small wounds and rewrapped his knee. 

“It was only supposed to be temporary,” Elrond recalled.

“Perhaps we might get one that is...thicker. Plush. A nice, long-lasting rug that muffles the sounds in the library.” Erestor’s suggestion was accompanied by a wink at Glorfindel, which Elrond did not see. Glorfindel’s lips curled slightly.

“Would that not make pushing the library cart difficult?” asked Elrond. “I would think the rug would be caught in the wheels.”

“Oh, but you see, I rarely use the cart these days,” said Erestor. “Glorfindel has been so good as to aid me in the library these past few days. He and I have just carried the books back to the shelves.”

“Hmm. A plush rug in the library would be a desirable feature,” mused Elrond. Glorfindel blushed slightly. “I would not wish to take you away from your work, Lord Glorfindel.”

It was known to all that Glorfindel was to aid with keeping Imladris safe, though in the meantime, he had already declared his desire to write a comprehensive text on the history of Gondolin. “I think I shall find myself in the library quite a lot in the future,” said Glorfindel. “I will want to compare what scholars have written before I start my work.”

“I think Glorfindel--Lord Glorfindel,” Erestor quickly corrected, “will find many other benefits to spending extra time in the library.”

\---

_ 10 minutes earlier… _

_ The desk was spattered with fluid that slid down the polished wood. Erestor was still braced over the desk, but his hands were not gripping the edge as they had been when he grunted and demanded deeper penetration less than a minute earlier. Instead, his arms were folded to give his head something to rest upon. Glorfindel was limp, but still draped over Erestor, with his eyes closed. “I thought maybe you were a wilya, until you started commanding me,” admitted Glorfindel. _

_ “No. Just a tinco with a fetish to be fucked. Trying to find an ando willing to indulge me has been a task long abandoned.” Erestor groaned a little. “It seems to be fading. I think I might need help getting to my room.” _

_ “Of course,” agreed Glorfindel immediately. He started to stand and help Erestor up--then noticed the blood on the desk. “Shit, you split your knee open!”  _

_ “So I did,” agreed Erestor as he eased himself down to the floor. He regretted it immediately. “This carpet is terribly itchy.” _

_ “Probably dirty, too. This has to be a highly utilized area.” Glorfindel examined Erestor’s knee. “We should go to Elrond.” _

_ “Like hell we should,” Erestor said. “I am not about to tell him what just happened here just to have him disinfect a cut and send me to bed.” Erestor attempted to stand up, but stumbled back onto the floor. _

_ “Well...you need this looked at,” said Glorfindel. “We can just...leave out the parts that are not important.” _

_ Erestor gave Glorfindel a withering look. _

_ “And...make up a few details to make it believable.” _

_ “You want me to lie to the master of the realm.” Erestor gave Glorfindel a challenging look. _

_ Glorfindel sat down beside Erestor. “I mean...I am not going to say you should,” he said carefully, “but it would not be the first time I had deceived someone from the line of Fingolfin.” _

_ Erestor leaned his shoulder against Glorfindel’s. “Explain.” _

_ Glorfindel blushed. “You have no doubt heard the tale of Aredhel? And how she allegedly got ‘lost’?” _

_ “Read that one,” said Erestor. _

_ Glorfindel nodded. “She actually knew Eol before Gondolin. They met on the outskirts of Nevrast. She had no intention of visiting Celegorm--she knew exactly where she wanted to go, and we took her there.” _

_ “Wait...what? What about going to Doriath and being turned away and--” _

_ “We made it up. Egalmoth and I. Ecthelion just had to keep his mouth shut.” _

_ “...why?” _

_ “You undoubtedly know that King Turgon threw his brother-in-law off a cliff. He had a nasty temper. Stood up on the top of his tower and fought a dragon, you know. But as nasty as he was--his sister...you did not want to be her enemy.” Glorfindel took a deep breath. “Master Elrond seems nice, though.” _

_ “I have so many questions, but they will need to wait. If you can help me clean myself up, then I will go to Elrond so that he does not scrutinize me in the morning at chapel if I am still limping.” _

\---

“Then I thank you for your assistance to my librarian, for I would have much concern that he might overexert.” Elrond looked at Erestor. “I want you to ease up on this leg for the next few days.”

“Of course.”

“Perhaps Glorfindel would be good enough to escort you to your quarters,” suggested Elrond.

“It will be my pleasure,” said Glorfindel.

Once they were outside of Elrond’s rooms with the door closed, Erestor shoved Glorfindel up against the wall and quietly yet soundly kissed him. “Your pleasure?” he questioned.

Glorfindel’s heart beat faster. “Only if...if you allow it, of course,” he whispered.

“Mmm...we are going to get into so much trouble together,” growled Erestor. The sound of Elrond approaching the door made the pair retreat--Glorfindel decided the best course of action was to scoop Erestor up and hide around the corner of the hallway with him while Elrond peeked out his door again, shrugged, and shut it.

“I expect this to be the first of many,” Glorfindel said as he carried Erestor to his room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: 
> 
> The Healer will see you now card: Hair causing external constriction ; Fall into a bucket of water; Stabbed while knitting; Contact with sharp leaves
> 
> B2MEM: NSFW: BDSM ASAP

“How does it feel?”

Erestor lit the final candle of the chandelier and then stepped down from the stool he had been on. “My knee?”

“No. Well, yes. That, too. But I meant, being a tinco,” specified Glorfindel.

“My knee has not bothered me in some time. Do you mean the knotting?”

“Yes. That. How is it?” Glorfindel was sitting on the sofa, wearing only a loose pair of pants. 

Erestor strolled over and sat down beside him. He was wearing a short silk robe that left little to the imagination. “Fine. I mean, it just is what it is. The first time was a shock, of course. I grew up thinking it might be interesting to be a wilya, or even an ando. The older I got, the more I felt I was destined for a submissive lifestyle. I would practice kneeling in one fluid motion, and holding poses with the expectation that some day I would have someone to call master.” Erestor chuckled. “And then I woke up one morning, and started to get out of bed, and--hello! And at first, I thought, fuck, this was so wrong. And then six weeks later, my uncle, who is a wilya, gave birth.” Erestor silently nodded for a little bit, and then shook his head adamantly. “Nope. No thank you. Completely lost the charm of the idea. So suddenly, this seemed a lot less terrible.”

“I hope some day you will indulge me,” Glorfindel said as he placed an arm around Erestor.

“I intend to do more than indulge you,” promised Erestor as he twirled a lock of golden hair. He kissed along Glorfindel’s neck and then said, “I intend to bury myself deep inside of you. My body, anchored in yours. You want that?”

“Yes,” groaned Glorfindel as Erestor pushed him down onto the sofa. “Please...I want that from you.”

From that point on, their shenanigans happened not only on the weekend, but on all of the days inbetween. And that was how they came to need Elrond’s assistance in the middle of the week.

\---

Unexpectedly, when Elrond opened the door that night, Glorfindel was not standing there. “Erestor--is everything alright?”

“Uh...no. I truly hate to bother you, but...well, would you mind coming with me to Glorfindel’s room? It is better for you to explain than to see it. I mean...uh, better you see it than I explain,” corrected Erestor, who was obviously worried.

Elrond already had his healer bag in his hands and was on his way to the door again. “Injury? Illness?”

“Uh...right this way,” mumbled Erestor as he briskly took Elrond to their destination.

\---

85 minutes earlier…

The door of Glorfindel’s room was unlocked. Erestor entered, and from the desk in the corner, Glorfindel gave him a smile. “You are early,” he said happily as he started to stand up.

“How many pages have you written?” 

Glorfindel sat himself back down on the chair. He and Erestor had an agreement. It was made shortly after Erestor realized that Glorfindel, despite his desire to write a book, found anything and everything to procrastinate. This was also right about the time they learned just how much Glorfindel enjoyed bondage. 

Now, the amount of writing accomplished each day had an equivalency in the bedroom. If Glorfindel wrote less than ten pages, Erestor would spank Glorfindel, and then it would be required that Glorfindel either give Erestor a blow job or make love to him, depending on what Erestor desired (or, if he desired neither, there were times Glorfindel would just have his hands bound behind his back before they went to sleep, so that he could not pleasure himself in bed--though, Erestor had yet to catch on that sometimes the lack of writing was due to afternoon masturbation.) 

When Glorfindel was a good boy, however, he was rewarded for his efforts. Ten or more pages would earn him the opportunity to be spreadeagled between the bedposts. Fifteen or more pages meant he would be suspended by the wrists from the hooks in the ceiling that were meant for planters, but were surprisingly strong. If this happened, he also had the privilege of wearing the leather collar Erestor presented him with during their ninth week together, which was used as a starting point to rope that would be artfully used to decorate and restrain him.

Twenty pages had yet to be achieved. He had been told that there would be something special for twenty pages, so today, to have Erestor appear and to be on page nineteen and three-quarters made Glorfindel whimper and stab his quill into the ink.

“Five? Six?” guessed Erestor as he approached.

Glorfindel scribbled furiously as Erestor came closer. “How was your day, darling? Tell me about the council meeting!”

Erestor stopped. “You never want to hear about the council meeting.”

“I really, really want to hear about it today,” Glorfindel said as he continued to write at an intense pace.

Erestor tilted his head. “Is that page ten?”

“Just...just a moment and I will count them all for you,” promised Glorfindel as he gathered more ink on the nib. Despite the ache in his wrist, he soldiered on, making the letters longer so that they took up more space. “How is the library? Is the library good?”

Erestor smiled slightly. “Fifteen?” he tried. He picked up one of the finished pages. “Did you remember to stop for lunch?”

“I had an apple,” Glorfindel said. His hand shook slightly as he made his way across the page to the end. “Twenty!” he declared as he slapped the last page onto the pile, smudging the last few words a little.

“Twenty?” Erestor gathered up the pages. “Twenty, you say? Shall we count them?”

Glorfindel was up from the chair in a flash. A moment later, he was holding the back of the chair, his rear jutting out. “Please, Master Erestor.”

A pleased grin stayed hidden from Glorfindel as Erestor moved behind Glorfindel. “I shall have you count them for me,” said Erestor as he removed Glorfindel’s own belt from around his waist. “Go ahead. Begin.”

Glorfindel shuddered a little. The spanking each night to count the pages had become a trandition, but Erestor had done so with his open hand each time. This new variation sent a thrill rippling through him. He hoped that this was not the only surprise he was to receive. Glorfindel reached out and transferred the first page over to an empty space on the desk, while keeping one hand on the back of the chair. He had to stretch to accomplish this. “One,” he said clearly.

Erestor yanked Glorfindel’s trousers down past his knees--not difficult without the belt--and Glorfindel gasped. He did so again as the leather softly hit his backside. “Nineteen more to go,” said Erestor. 

“Two,” Glorfindel stated as the next page was moved.

The leather hit him slightly harder this time.

“Three,” Glorfindel said, and a moment later, he grunted as the belt slapped against his skin.

Glorfindel moved the next sheet. “Four.” 

Once again, the belt hit his flesh harder. Then, Erestor pressed up against him and whispered, “Spread your legs.”

Glorfindel tried to shift his feet apart, but the trousers were around his ankles now and kept him in place. “I am trying,” he said. “Master,” he added swiftly. “I am trying, Master.”

Erestor sighed theatrically and dropped the belt to the floor. “I suppose I must do it for you, then.” Erestor crouched down and yanked one of Glorfindel’s feet off the floor, nearly causing Glorfindel to lose balance. The trousers were pulled off one side completely, and then the other and thrown aside. 

However, Erestor was not done. He left for a moment and went into another room. When he came back, it was with the curtain rod. The curtains were being pulled off and left in a trail across the floor. “Spread your legs,” demanded Erestor, and Glorfindel widened his stance.

Rope was within reach, kept conveniently in the desk drawer. It was used to bind one of Glorfindel’s ankles to one end of the rod, then stretched up, where it was wound around one thigh, drawn tightly between Glorfindel’s cheeks, around the other thigh, and back down to the other side to tie the other ankle to the other side of the rod. It left Glorfindel beautifully and almost painfully exposed. “Go on,” coaxed Erestor as he picked up the belt. “Keep going.”

Glorfindel bit his lip as he moved the next sheet over. “Five.”

The belt was flicked between Glorfindel’s legs. He tilted his head back in ecstasy. The next sheet was moved. “Six.” The leather curled around his hip as it hit him. “Seven.” Between his legs again, but harder, and Glorfindel’s knees buckled for a moment. “Eight,” he said once he regained his posture. The belt hit his back. “Nine.” Now his shoulder. “Ten.” The strap hit his ass again, with force that made him arch into the chair and cry out.

Erestor came around to straddle the chair and look up at Glorfindel. He draped the belt around Glorfindel’s neck. The metal studs on the collar clinked against the belt as Erestor pulled Glorfindel down a little closer. “I trust you. You have been working all day and you have earned something special. Do you trust me?”

“Yes, master,” Glorfindel answered.

\---

Elrond tilted his head as the door was swiftly closed behind him. “What in Arda happened here?”

“Well. It was an accident.”

Elrond shifted his gaze from Glorfindel to Erestor. If only he had a gold piece for every time one of these two had said those words to him over the last four months. “An accidental what?”

The story had been practiced ahead of time. “Calf roping,” replied Erestor, though even as he said the words, they sounded ridiculous.

“Uh-huh.” Elrond looked down at Glorfindel, who was blushing madly. His hair was ornately wound tightly, entwined with rope. Somehow, the mass of blond hair and rope was also wrapped around Glorfindel’s throat, and, because of how much hair Glorfindel had and how long it was, it was also constricting...well, it was certainly not something Elrond had seen before. “Calf roping, you say?”

“Yes,” Erestor affirmed. 

“In the middle of winter.”

Erestor squirmed a little. “...yes?” 

Elrond was not one to meddle in the affairs of his people. He believed it when Glorfindel’s ankle was twisted on account of allegedly falling into a bucket of water. He did not question Erestor when there was an apparent knitting accident that resulted in a very unfortunate wound to the head of his penis. Elrond did not give it a second thought when strange perforations on the skin of both of them was blamed on sharp leaves.

As non judgemental as Elrond was, he was not an idiot.

“Hmm.” Elrond opened his case and removed a pair of gloves, which he put on. “Either of you want to tell me what really happened?”

  
  


28 minutes earlier…

“Something is wrong.”

Erestor sat up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “What?” The tone of Glorfindel’s voice was different than it had been all evening, and he was wincing. “What is wrong?”

“I think...I think you made it too tight.” Glorfindel said with a grimace.

Erestor began to check the knots and bindings. Glorfindel’s legs were still spread with the curtain rod, and that seemed fine, but as soon as he began to examine the intricate way he had incorporated Glorfindel’s hair into the equation, so that Glorfindel’s body was contorted, his head back so far he could only look at the ceiling as he knelt on the floor, wrists bound behind his back. From his wrists, the rope and hair had been drawn between his legs and used to create bindings around his scrotum and the base of his erection penis, which was slick from Erestor’s mouth. It was also a dark red, almost purple, and Glorfindel hissed when Erestor touched it. “Let me loosen it,” offered Erestor as he started to work on the knots.

Glorfindel jerked suddenly. “That hurt,” he complained.

“Stop moving!” Erestor scolded. He cursed as he nearly tangled one of his own fingers in the mess.

“Ow!” Glorfindel lost balance and fell over onto his side. “You scratched me! That hurt!”

“Sorry! You never complained about being scratched before!”

“That was before you...tied me up wrong!”

Erestor pouted a little, and Glorfindel, his cheek resting against the floor, sighed.

“I thought this would be fun.”

“So did I! But not right now--can you just...please! You need to get it off,” whimpered Glorfindel.

“Alright, alright, I am so sorry.” Erestor helped Glorfindel back onto his knees and started to work on the knots again. “Do you have a knife anywhere?”

Glorfindel tensed. “Why do you need a knife?”

“I am going to try to cut the rope.”

Glorfindel grew silent. “But my hair is wrapped up in there.”

“Yes.”

“So, you might cut it.”

“...probably.”

“You just have to untie them.”

“I do not think we have a choice.”

A long pause followed.

“Are you...honestly…”

“Let me think about this.”

“Glorfindel, your penis is turning the wrong colors.”

“Can you please try to untie the knots again?”

“I--fine. But if your penis falls off--”

“Untie my hands and I can help you.”

Erestor moved behind Glorfindel and started to work on the bindings around his wrists. “It usually works best to go backwards,” Erestor said as he struggled with the rope and Glorfindel’s hair.

With teeth clenched, Glorfindel grunted a few times. “You are pulling it on purpose now!”

“I am not!” And so, then, Erestor did indeed give it a tug, which caused Glorfindel to swear at him.

A moment later, however, Glorfindel sighed. “It feels better now. We can continue.”

“No. I am not comfortable with this. I should have thought about how tightly hair can constrict.” Erestor worked on the knots again. After about five minutes of silence, he stood up and looked down at Glorfindel. “Where do you keep a knife?”

“Noooooooo. No.”

Erestor shook his head. “The knots are knotted and I cannot untie them. I at least have to cut the ends and hope I can unravel the rest.”

“No.”

“What other choice do we have?”

Glorfindel seemed to contemplate all possibilities. “You need to get Elrond.”

“What?! No!”

“Go get Elrond.”

“No. Absolutely not. No.”

Glorfindel cleared his throat. “Erestor?”

Erestor sighed. “I am not going to get Elrond.”

“Yes you are.” Glorfindel swallowed hard. “You can discipline me for this later, but I need you to go and get Elrond for me. We can try to make up some story to cover what we have been doing, but...well, Elrond is not an idiot.”

“Just let me try the knife, and then, if that does not work--”

“Erestor?”

“Go get Elrond?”

“Please.”

Erestor stood up. “At least let me remove the bindings from your ankles first.” As he worked on these, the pair concocted a tale as an attempted cover. After stowing the curtain rod under the bed, Erestor paused to put a long robe on and then leaned over to kiss Glorfindel’s forehead. “I am not going to discipline you for something that is my fault.”

“Maybe I want you to,” said Glorfindel.

Erestor winked. “Later. If we survive the humiliation of Elrond.”

\---

Erestor looked from Elrond to Glorfindel and then back again. “Not really.”

“Nope,” agreed Glorfindel.

Elrond assessed the situation, stood up, and looked at Erestor. “I need a knife.”

Glorfindel whimpered.

“Uh…”

“Actually, maybe I have one with me,” Elrond said as he went to the bag.

Erestor hurried after him and placed his hand on Elrond’s arm. “Elrond, uh, Master Elrond, uh...perhaps you might try--”

“Erestor, I am not going to ask any questions, I am not going to say a word to anyone, and I am going to go back to my rooms, have a drink, and pretend not to have seen any of this. But I need to sever the rope somewhere, and his hair is incredibly tangled, and I am not going to sit here all night untangling every strand.” Elrond pulled a knife from the bag, went back across the room, and unceremoniously sliced the rope--and Glorfindel’s hair--between his wrists and his rear. “There. I believe you can handle the rest,” Elrond said stoically. “And for the love of Eru, I would suggest you both keep clear of calves from now on.”

Erestor locked the door as soon as Elrond was gone, and then turned his attention to unraveling the bindings from Glorfindel. “I am so, so sorry,” he apologized as he discarded another long clump of blond hair into a pile on the floor. The calm words continued until the rope was all tucked back into the desk, and Glorfindel was perched on the bed. His hair, though much shorter, still reached the mattress from where he sat. This was not what caught Erestor’s eye--it was the erection that Glorfindel still had. “I hope I did not break it,” he half-joked as he sat down beside Glorfindel.

“No. Should be fine.” Glorfindel drew some of his blond tresses up and let them drape back down.

“Sorry about your hair,” added Erestor.

Glorfindel shrugged. He looked down at the bed and rubbed his face. “I have a confession.”

“You hate the bondage.”

“What? No. No, I love that,” Glorfindel said honestly. “No, what I am going to say is probably going to upset you.”

“Try me,” offered Erestor.

Glorfindel licked his lips. “I, uhm...I kind of got off on that. Which is why I am still like this.” He fondled himself for a moment, and then leaned back on his hands with a sigh.

“You got off on my incompetency?”

“No. The hair.” Glorfindel blushed a little. “I do not cut my hair because I get off on cutting my hair, and when Elrond did that...I kind of got off on him a little.”

“Huh.” Erestor rubbed his chin and studied Glorfindel. “You are not an ando,” he said gently.

Glorfindel wrapped his arms around himself. “I was afraid you were going to figure that out.”

“Why the fear? This is good. I am a tinco who likes to be fucked, and you are a wilya who likes to--wait, you do like that, right?”

“Very much,” Glorfindel said. “Yes.” He continued to blush. “I mean, yes.”

“There is something else, though.”

Glorfindel rubbed his nose. “I mean...a tinco and a wilya...technically...something is still missing.”

Erestor tilted his head and petted Glorfindel’s hair. “Maybe someday we will be lucky enough to find an ando.”

Glorfindel nodded, blushed, and looked at the door.

“Huh.” Erestor glanced at the door and then looked again at Glorfindel. “Never considered that.”

“Considered what?” asked Glorfindel.

Erestor smiled. “It was more than the unexpected haircut that turned you on tonight.” Erestor crawled around behind Glorfindel and draped his arms around Glorfindel’s neck. “You said 'him'. You got off on him. You meant on what was going on, but you said, and meant, Elrond. I mean--he does already know what we are doing.”

“True.” Glorfindel frowned. “What if he turns out not to be an ando?”

“Oh, he has to be. He just has to be.” Erestor massaged Glorfindel’s shoulders. “So...since you are still erect, and we still have the rest of the night…”

\---

Elrond set the bag down on the floor and continued on to his bed, stopping onto to remove his shoes, which were kicked into the corner. He dropped down on the bed and closed his eyes.

A few minutes later, he rolled over and opened a drawer of the nightstand. Underneath a pile of letters and a book, there it was. He pulled it from the drawer and ran his fingers over it. He had noticed one in Glorfindel’s room, tucked under a pillow, but not well enough not to be noticed. A leather collar, just like the one in Elrond’s hands, only the one Elrond held had a name embossed on the leather. “I miss you,” he said as he ran his fingers over the letters that spelled out Ereinion’s name. With a sigh, Elrond kissed the supple leather and tucked it under his pillow before he curled up and fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I went a little elfy on the alpha-beta-omega, going with tinco-ando-wilya instead. (If you don't agree with those letters for representation of A/B/O in this, frankly, Feanor, I don't give a damn. You're here for the pwp and not the deep lore of linguistics. Deal with it.) ;-)


End file.
